


Touch Me

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hand Jobs, I need to edit this but whatever, Language rating, M/M, Mutual Pining, Needy Lance, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), who cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 18:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18998050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: The sexual tension finally snaps when Keith pins Lance during one on one training. Lance refuses to throw him and Keith knows it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m bored so I’m posting this.

Keith pins Lance to the floor, arms stretched over his head. Instead of letting go and calling the match like he should Keith hovers, watching.

Lance’s chest heaves, his pulse spiking as Keith stares. There’s something to be said for being the loud and obnoxious one, the class clown. No one dares to look closer, to peek under the mask. They take you at face value because what more could there be? Why bother looking deeper?

Except Keith does.

Lance shivers under the weight of being seen, of being known, of what he knows Keith is seeing in his eyes.

“Let go of me.” His voice is weaker than he wants but he can’t summon the strength to struggle. Because he doesn’t want Keith to go.

Lance wrenches his eyes away, his face hot, trying to willfully melt through the cold steel at his back. Keith’s hands on his wrists burn.

“No.”

Lance shivers at how quiet and soft Keith’s voice is as he lowers his weight until their bodies are brushing, Lance’s chest stroking against his with ever rapid breath.

“Throw me,” Keith whispers and his eyes are pleading as he hovers a breath away, dark hair falling to either side of Lance’s face. There’s something in his eyes, curious and wanting, searching.

“It wouldn’t be hard.” He leans closer, nose brushing along the line of Lance’s jaw to his ear, breath bouncing off his cheek, making him shudder. The tips of his hair tickle over Lance’s face, making him twitch and his fingers flex but he doesn’t move.

“My weight isn’t even balanced anymore,” Keith breathes and Lance knows, can feel it, knows how easy it would be to flip them, but he doesn’t.

“But you don’t want me to go.”

Lance’s breath hitches at Keith’s voice in his ear, the vibration of it rolling through him and making his toes curl. His body arcs unintentionally upward, face heating over how turned on he is already.

Keith’s hips lower fractionally and Lance’s cant upwards, seeking brief friction Keith won’t give him.

“Say it.”

Lance whines, biting his lip and shaking his head even as he twitches and squirms, eyes squeezed shut so Keith will stop seeing. He shivers at Keith’s lips on his ear, weak with want and grinds his teeth to keep from making that damning noise again.

“Say you don’t want me to go,” Keith whispers and something in his voice cracks. Lance can feel the faint tremor in Keith’s body where he’s hovering above him, refusing to come closer. He’s barely holding it together. Lance knows his arms must be burning.

“Lance…” His name comes out of Keith’s mouth like a desperate whine, broken and needy and the words spill out of Lance before he’s conscious of saying them.

“Please don’t go,” he begs, voice breathy and weak. He turns towards Keith, body arching desperately as he searches blindly for his mouth, for heat and touch and delicious friction but Keith still won’t let him go.

The words fall in a litany from his lips like a prayer, desperate and running together as he struggles to reach for Keith, to draw him closer.

“Don’t go, don’t go, please don’t go. Please,” he whines. “Please.”

The kiss is searing where the meet, swallowing the gut wrenching sound Lance makes when Keith finally grinds down into him. Lance’s knees spread wide to accommodate him as Keith settles between them like he belongs there. He’s just as hard as Lance.

The sounds he’s making spills out of Lance’s mouth and into the training room as the kiss breaks, half groan, half cry and Keith almost cums on that sound alone.

He shudders, kissing down Lance’s throat, needing to taste him, to feel his skin between his teeth, against his tongue and Lance tips his head back, baring his throat for more.

Lance can’t think through the haze of adrenaline and lust he’s drowning under, doesn’t want to, just hitches his legs up over Keith’s hips trying to draw him closer, opening himself to Keith’s lavish attention.

Keith hooks a hand under one of Lance’s knees, pulling it higher around his hip as he rocks into Lance, making them both moan as their cocks slide together through layers of material that’s too much and not enough.

“Don’t go,” Lance babbles, half incoherent, his one free hand scrabbling at Keith’s back. Keith kisses him again, sliding his tongue into Lance’s mouth where he’s met eagerly and with abandon, Lance chasing him, drawing him back every time he tries to pull away, needing more.

Keith couldn’t stop if he wanted to. He’s hungry for more of those sounds Lance keeps making, desperate and wanton in a way Keith never knew he could be and never wants to forget.

He shoves down his shorts and then Lance’s and takes them both in hand.

Lance arches off the floor with a cry at the first stroke, the hand Keith is still pinning to the floor over his head flexing, holding him there. Lance squirms, trying to break free and whining, trying to get closer, trying to pull away. Keith’s hand slows and he leans down to Lance’s ear, giving Lance’s cock a slow drag.

They’re both breathing heavily.

“What do you want Lance?” There’s no teasing in his voice, just honest curiosity and a desire to fulfill, a need, a desperate desire the likes of which Lance has never heard before, not even in his deepest fantasies. And he’s never imagined such a sound, such a request, could be direct at him.

Keith stills his hand, waiting for Lance to come back, for his eyes to flutter open and focus, his brain fritzing out under waves of heat and pleasure.

Keith’s eyes are bright as stars above him.

“What do you want?” He asks again and Lance tugs at his trapped wrist.

Keith skims his lips over his throat and Lance groans, tipping his head back again. Keith strokes him and whatever words were stuck in Lance’s throat dislodge.

“...touch you,” he gasps, arching off the floor. “Want to touch you.”

Keith releases his wrist and Lance surges upward, wrapping his arms around Keith and drawing him back down into a kiss that burns.

He takes over stroking them and Keith yanks up Lance’s shirt, dragging his tongue across Lance’s chest, leaving a trail of biting kisses across soft skin until it’s tender and bruised. Keith’s palm drags over Lance’s ribs to his waist, his thigh, sliding up under his shorts, bunching the fabric to grip at his ass. He lifts Lance’s hips, thrusting into him so hard Lance rocks across the floor.

Lance’s back arches high with a strangled cry, sweat-slick skin sliding over the cold steel before he slumps back to the ground, going limp and shivering. He’s too hot, stripped like a live-wire, twitching, chest heaving under Keith’s mouth, fingers spasming but he can’t make his body move.

Keith kisses under Lance’s jaw up to his ear, nipping at the lone with his teeth. His tongue darts into the shell and Lance shudders, gasping, a garbled noise strangling out of him. His eyes well with tears under Keith’s attention, the feel of calloused fingers running over him, worshipful, and Lance’s heart swells, drowning him under emotion and tears slip down his temples.

Keith lifts his head from where he’s laving attention over Lance’s chest, over his heart. His lips are swollen and red, wet and bright and he’s panting. Lance’s eyes are closed, head tipped back, lips parted. His hand on their cocks has fallen away and he’s just lying there, breathing heavily, beads of sweat rolling over his skin.

“Lance?” Keith shifts his weight onto one hand, concerned, and hovering over Lance to touch his face.

“Hey,” Keith says softly. “Come back.” His thumb strokes over Lance’s cheek, grounding him through the heady daze of pleasure and lust and white noise. “Come back to me.”

Lance whines, eyes fluttering open. They’re glassy and distant and Keith pulls further away. Lance makes another noise of protest, reaching for him but he’s weak and shuddering and his arms don’t want to cooperate.

“Come back,” he pleads but Keith is already sitting up, the heat in his eyes turning cold with fear.

“Then I need you to talk to me because I’m kind of freaking out here.” His hands are shaking where they’re resting lightly on Lance’s hips, faint and fluttering like he’s afraid to touch. “Did I hurt you?”

Lance shakes his head, blinking rapidly, trying to think but his brain is full of cotton. “No,  ‘m fine.” His voice quavers.

“Then why are you crying?”

Lance blinks, bumbling fingers reaching for his eyes, surprised to find Keith is right.

“I don’t know?” His voice shakes, and a sob lodges in his throat.

Keith pulls further away, fear overwhelming him. Afraid Keith will leave, Lance finds the strength to reach for him and he stops.

“I’m okay,” Lance assures, voice coaxing. “I’m okay,” he says again, voice stronger when Keith doesn’t look like he believes him.

“Then what’s going on?”

Lance chews on his lip, reaching for the tangled knot of emotion inside himself, trying to seperate the threads. He still hasn’t sat up.

“I’m fine,” he reiterates, reaching up to try and pull Keith back. Keith wipes at his tears.

“That’s not good enough. I need you to talk to me.”

Lance’s fingers stroke over Keith’s arms where he can reach, tracing the cords of muscle and tendon there, struggling to verbalize what he feels.

“It’s not...bad.” Lance shakes his head, still blinking back tears. “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” he admits, eyes wet but honest. “I’m overwhelmed but it’s not bad.” He pulls Keith into a kiss and after a moment Keith gives in, relaxing into it. Lance gives him another quick peck on the mouth.

“I think I’m just happy.”

Keith touches his face so softly Lance’s eyes flutter closed. “Yeah?” Keith asks, needing to make sure.

“I’m sure. I’m overwhelmed,” Lance says again. “I’m happy. And really, really turned on,” he says. “You just kinda- shorted me out there for a minute.”

Keith looks wary, dark eyebrows coming together in confusion. “And that’s a...good thing?”

Lance smiles, eyes bright and focused now. “Oh yeah.” His fingers drift up Keith’s arm, holding him firmly. He’s still hovering over him, afraid to touch.

“So can you please come back here?” Lance asks, giving his arm an ineffectual tug. “You’re kind of killing my high right now and I really want you to come back.” His grin is teasing and he nuzzles into Keith’s hand when he lifts it to wipe away Lance’s tears again.

“You’re sure?”

Lance swipes his tongue across Keith’s palm, making him shudder, eyes already dark with want again.

“Yes.”

Keith lets himself be pulled back down until they’re chest to chest again, fingers stroking over Lance’s rib, tracing out the dips between each one like he’s trying to memorize them. Lance has never been touched like that.

It takes them a moment to find their pace again but soon enough Keith’s face is buried in Lance’s neck, one hand on his leaking cock.

Lance’s thoughts are short and fuzzy, one surfacing to the forefront, realization coming to him now that he isn’t grasping for it.

“I’m not...used to feeling wanted,” he gasps, the words broken and disrupted between the thrusts of Keith’s hips.

He wrapped all around Keith, trying to pull him closer but their bodies are already flush.

“You are. Lance you are so, so wanted.” Keith covers him with kisses, pressing all his love and desire and trust into each one, chasing wave after wave of pleasure as it ripples through Lance, pushing him further towards the edge with a single-minded determination.

Lance reaches for him again, stroking them both and Keith’s arm trembles where it’s still struggling to hold him aloft, keeping the bulk of his weight off Lance, afraid to crush him.

With Lance’s hand on him Keith isn’t going to last. With those noises in his ear, the warm fit of Lance’s fingers and the feel of his chest heaving under Keith’s hand he knows he’s close.

Lance twists his wrist and Keith loses rhythm where he’s fucking himself into Lance’s fist, against his cock. He doesn’t know where he stopped chasing Lance’s pleasure for his own,can no longer tell the two apart. His head bows and Keith scrabbles at the floor, shoulders quaking.

“Lance,” he tries to warn, the name a thready whine.

Lance throws his arm over Keith’s sweat-slick shoulder, dragging his head down, getting tangled in his hair.

“Cum for me,” Lance gasps into his ear and Keith shudders, groaning and his hips stutter in Lance’s hand until he does.

It doesn’t take long before Lance is following after him.


	2. Chapter 2

Keith collapses onto the ground beside Lance, muscles twitching and burning. There’s a faint buzzing in his head and it takes him a moment to catch his breath, Lance doing the same.

When he does, Keith struggles out of his shirt and uses it to wipe them both down, tucking Lance back into his shorts before doing the same. He collapses onto the ground beside him again, sweat cooling on his skin.

“Did that just happen?” Lance asks the ceiling. His hair is damp with sweat, mussed and curling about his still ruddy cheeks. His shirt is still rucked up around his chest, bite marks darkening over his skin; more than Keith can remember leaving.

He’s never looked better.

Lance turns his head and looks at Keith. “Or am I still dreaming?” He’s looking at Keith with something liquid-warm and awed and Keith can’t help the self-conscious flush that washes over him to be looked at like that.

Keith looks at the bruises forming on Lance’s wrists to keep from melting under the heat of that gaze, guilt eating away at his bliss.

“I’m sorry.”

Lance gapes at him, half propping himself up on an elbow out of offense. “For what? The mind blowing orgasm?” He blinks dumbly. “You are seriously not apologizing for that right now.” He flops back down, staring slack-jawed at the ceiling.

“That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Krith flushes, reaching out to touch Lance’s wrist.

“I meant the bruises.” He strokes over the reddened skin in apology. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Lance turns his head to look at him and pouts. “If you were hurting me I would have told you to stop and I distinctly remember _begging_ you to do anything but.” He grins and Keith blushes at Lance’s choice of wording but he isn’t wrong.

Lance lifts a hand, bumping his knuckles against Keith’s cheek. His arms are still weak and rubbery. He lifts Keith’s chin with a gentle tap.

“So stop worrying. Because I’d really like you to come here and kiss me again.”

Keith lifts his eyes, half hiding behind his tangled mess of hair. “Yeah?”

Lance grins. “Yeah.”

Keith leans down to kiss him and it’s sweet and lingering until Lance’s smile breaks it.

“You know, if I’d known this was what you meant by hand to hand combat practice I’d have agreed to it _ages_ ago.”

Keith’s eyes widen and he blushes all the way down to his throat, mortified.

“I- that’s not-”

Lance cackles and Keith hides his face behind a hand.

“Oh my god.” He slaps Lance across the chest where he’s still laughing and hauls himself to his feet. “I hate you,” he says but Lance’s eyes trace the flush down his naked chest and he hums happily.

Lance tips his head to the side and grins up at Keith. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, a wretched mess Keith can’t help wanting to run his fingers through. His eyes are bright with mirth and he’s radiating happiness in a way that gives Keith butterflies.

“No you don’t.”

Keith flushes all over again at the fond note in Lance’s voice, ducking his head. He feels warm all over at that tone and squirms under the attention.

“Come on,” he says gruffly, reaching down to grasp Lance by the arm and haul him to his feet. Lance lets the momentum carry him into Keith’s chest, using Keith’s grip on his arm to keep him from stepping away. He tips his head down and Keith scowls, shifting awkwardly.

Lance hovers a breath away from his mouth but doesn’t make a move to come any closer. Keith can’t tell if he’s frustrated or mortified.

“This okay?” Lance whispers, breath warm on Keith’s skin.

“Lance you literally just jerked me off,” he snaps, glaring at him askance.

Lance grins, so close Keith can’t see it but he can feel it. His expression sobers a little.

“Yeah,” he breathes, fingers twitching on Keith’s arms. “I just wasn’t sure where we stand.” His gaze flicks between Keith’s eyes. “And that doesn’t mean I have the right to kiss you-” Keith shuts him up halfway through with a kiss, a deep sigh slipping from Lance as Keith drags him closer, nipping at his lip scoldingly.

“Does that clear things up?” he asks after the kiss breaks, not drawing too far away.

“Might have to remind me from time to time,” Lance says, breathless, not able to wrap his head around that this is really happening. He pulls back, blinking at Keith, studying him. He still hasn’t let go of Keith’s arm.

“You’re sure I’m not dreaming?” His voice is faint, weak, a touch of fear in his eyes and touches Keith’s cheek as if to make sure he’s really there.

“Cause part of me is really scared I’m dreaming,” he whispers. A lump forms in his throat. He really doesn’t want to wake up if he is.

“You dream about kissing me a lot?” Keith teases, blatantly deflecting.

“Yeah.” The blunt honesty makes Keith’s heart skip and his eyes snap to Lance’s. “Yeah I do,” Lance says again, more straightforward than Keith has ever known him to be.

“So I’m going to need you to be a little explicit about what you want here because I’m tired of dancing around you.” His gaze flicks back and forth between Keith’s eyes, fingers stroking over his arm.

“Cause I really need to know we’re on the same page here.” A furrow forms between Lance’s eyebrows and he still looks scared. “I know where I stand on the matter but I can’t read your mind and I’m prone to overthinking things and actions aren’t enough. I need words okay?

“Is this a friends with benefits kind of thing, because I don’t think I can do that.” He shakes his head, rumpled hair falling further askew.

“The sex was great, don't get me wrong because good god.” He tucks Keith’s hair behind his ear. “But I don’t just want sex,” he says softly. “I want you.”

Lance’s voice wavers and Keith reaches up, smoothing his fingers through Lance’s hair like he’s been wanting to do.

“I’m not good with words,” he admits. “But I’ve been into you for a long time and I’d really like to be in a relationship with you.” A bit of that fear slips into Keith’s own voice, afraid Lance won’t want him, even after everything. “If you really want me.”

Lance’s heart races and he squeezes Keith’s arm.

Keith watches the fear burn out of Lance’s face like mist before the sunrise and his heart lifts at the sight. Lance tugs Keith into his chest, kissing him fiercely. He wraps his arms around Keith’s waist, tipping him backwards just enough to throw off Keith’s balance and he smiles into the kiss, trusting Lance to hold him.

“Of course I want you,” Lance whispers against Keith’s mouth, holding him partially suspended. “How could I not?”

Keith’s expression crumples briefly and he presses his forehead against Lance’s, eyes burning.

Lance stands them up, brushing a thumb over Keith’s cheek. “You okay?”

Keith nods, eyes still squeezed shut. “Yeah.” His voice cracks and Keith takes a deep breath, opening his eyes. “Nice to feel wanted,” he says, echoing Lance’s earlier sentiment.

Lance touches his cheek, trying to impress on him the gravity of his words.

“You are. Now come on, we should get out of here before somebody catches us.”

Keith catches Lance before he can step away, drawing him back in like the tide.

“Come here.”

Lance looks at him expectantly and Keith leans in, pressing a kiss to the side of Lance’s throat that grows progressively less gentle until he’s pulling sweet skin into his mouth, sucking hard.

His grip tightens when Lance tries to squirm, lashes fluttering, a whine leaving him Keith can feel in his mouth. Lance’s knees shiver beneath him as his eyes roll and he bites his lip, swaying precariously.

Keith pulls back with a wet pop to look at his work. Satisfied, he strokes the flat of his tongue over the bruise, kissing it softly.

Lance’s eyes open slowly and it takes him a moment to come back to himself, his hands on Keith keeping him upright.

“What was that for?” He doesn’t sound mad, just curious, breathing shallow.

“Because I could,” Keith says softly, still half in wonder at that, staring at him reverently. “Because you’re letting me.”

Lance flushes, lifting his hand to touch the spot, feeling the blood pulse through it and he shuts his eyes briefly, savoring the moment and the feel of the bruise, that Keith had been the one to give it to him.

Keith touches Lance’s ruined hair, eyes tracing over the flush to his cheeks, his swollen lips.

“I like seeing you like this.”

Lance blinks, focusing on Keith like he doesn’t understand. He lowers his hand and Keith’s eyes are drawn back to the hickey and the others around it.

“Like what?” he asks.

“Mussed. Flustered. Breathless.” Keith’s eyes trace over Lance again, just taking him in. “You’re always so put together. I like watching you fall apart.” His eyes come back to rest on Lance’s face. “I like being the one to do it.”

Lance blushes but doesn’t look away. “I like that you’re the one doing it.”

He doesn’t want to let go of Keith and Keith can’t seem to stop touching him either.

“I could really use a shower,” Lance offers. “You want to come with me?”

A smile stretches across Keith’s lips and Lance really wants to kiss him again.

“I’d like that.”

Lance slips his hand into Keith’s, drawing him out of the room. “And you’re spending the night.”

Keith doesn’t stop smiling even after his cheeks hurt; couldn’t even if he wanted to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus: Pidge walks into the training room, lights reflecting off the lenses of their glasses as they sip at their coffee. “Smells like sex in here.”
> 
> Alt: The next day Lance walks in covered in hickeys and Pidge snaps their fingers at Hunk without looking up from their computer screen, making a ‘come hither’ motion.
> 
> “You owe me twenty GAC,” they say flatly.
> 
> “Aw man.”


End file.
